Between Darkness and Light (Sholan Alliance)

by Lisanne Norman

  “Maybe drawing attention to ourselves is what we need to do,” said Rezac. “If Kezule knows we’re in this area, he may contact us himself.”

  “You don’t know Kezule,” said Kaid, turning away from the screen. “Unless he wants to contact us, he’ll just sit it out.”

  “What about trying to search for him mentally?” suggested Rezac. “You’ve felt him once. We have three Leska pairs here.” He gave a brief laugh. “A triad of Leskas! We should be able to scan for him and find him.”

  Carrie shook her head. “We’ve tried. L’Seuli said that Kezule’s note specified Kusac was to bring no telepaths. Given he’s got a telepathic cub there, and we know he hates telepaths, he’s bound to have the place filled with psi dampers.”

  “Don’t know that for sure,” said T’Chebbi, inspecting the nails on her right hand. “Where he get them?”

  “The cubs told us he had them wearing psi damping collars,” said Kaid. “He’ll have one on Shaidan, and if he’s figured Kusac has his Talent back, he’ll be wearing one.”

  They heard a rhythmic pounding in the corridor outside and as one, looked at each other.

  “Ashay,” smiled Carrie, glancing over at the door as the noise came to an abrupt stop and the door slid open.

  “News is coming from Tooshu,” said Ashay, the lips curling back from his snout as he ducked his long snakelike neck to enter the room. “Captain Shaayiyisis says they are sorting Valtegan data now. Big job it is being, will be day after tomorrow before it is being usable by us. We return then, Tooshu says.”

  Ashay stopped beside Carrie to settle onto the floor on his haunches, pulling his thick tail round his feet out of everyone’s way. “Not be sad, friend Carrie. Finding them we will be,” he added, gently resting one large clawed hand on her shoulder. “Detailed star charts of this region they be having is for sure. Then finding Outpost will be easier.”

  “I know we will,” said Carrie, reaching up to pat the teenager’s reptilian hand. “Maybe Kisha and you are both right, Kaid. We’re getting nowhere here, and with detailed maps we can find out where all the star systems with gas giants are in this sector. We could well be at the wrong one.”

  Kaid looked at her in surprise, then, as he went over to her, the tension gradually left his body and face.

  “Are you sure?” he asked, squatting in front of her. “I don’t want you thinking we’re giving up this site too easily.”

  She shook her head. “Call it a hunch, but I don’t think we are in the right place.” I know that because of our differences over Kusac in the past you don’t want to be the one to say we should return to the Tooshu, Tallinu, but I think it’s the right thing to do, she sent.

  He nodded, letting her feel his gratitude for her understanding. “Ashay, tell Captain Shaayiyisis to set course for the Tooshu, please,” he said quietly, pushing his feelings of failure deep to the back of his mind where no one could sense them.

  We’ve all been cooped up here for long enough with everyone’s emotions—ours particularly—running so high right now. We could do with losing ourselves on a ship the size of the Tooshu again.

  “Aye, sir,” said Ashay somberly, propelling himself to his feet with his massive leg muscles.

  Kij’ik, Zhal-Arema 2nd day (March)

  Kezule, feet propped up on the low table in front of him, was in his office on the Command level. The table itself was strewn with papers and several reader units, one of which M’kou, his arm now out of its sling, was still reading.

  “What’s your assessment?” asked Kezule when his son finally put the reader down. He was exhausted. The last few nights, what sleep he’d been able to snatch had been haunted by guilt over how badly he’d handled his relationship with Kusac and his crew, and visions of a future dominated by K’hedduk’s Empire.

  “Our defensive capability is adequate. The meson cannon here is now functional, and we have six of the twenty smaller asteroids fully armed and responding to the bridge. Our offensive force is the N’zishok, the M’zayik, the Mazzu, and twenty-five fully operational fighters, with the Ch’almuthians providing us with another two cruiser class ships, almost fully operational, and a third from their space station, but it needs work. Four cruisers, one destroyer and twenty-five fighters.”

  He fell silent and stared at his father until the General looked up at him. “We need the Sholans,” he said quietly. “We don’t have enough trained crew or pilots.”

  “I know,” said Kezule, equally quietly. “And I’m unlikely to get their help now.”

  “Have you spoken to the Captain since his punishment?”

  “I’ve been putting it off.”

  “May I offer you some advice, Father?” M’kou asked very quietly.

  Kezule looked up at him, surprised that his son had chosen to address him so informally.

  “Go ahead.”

  “Give him his son back, and tell him honestly what the situation is. There is no other way he’ll even consider helping you.”

  “Even if he agrees, will his crew?”

  “If they’ve any faith left in him after the lies he’s been forced to tell them, yes, they will.”

  Kezule winced at the implicit responsibility his son put on him for Kusac’s need to lie.

  “You need to trust each other, Father. It is in the interests of his people to help us take K’oish’ik back from K’hedduk, and Kusac has as much reason to hate him as we have.”

  “I don’t know if trust is possible after all that’s happened between us,” murmured Kezule, getting to his feet.

  “Would you like me to come with you?” M’kou asked.

  Kezule threw his son a grateful look, but shook his head. “I have to do this myself,” he said.

  Kusac finished his stretching exercises then limped to the washbasin for a drink of water. The sleep cure combined with his trance had healed his leg to the point where the entry wound was almost completely healed, but the exit one was still open and giving him some pain. The exercises were necessary, though, to build up his strength.

  Filling the drinking vessel again, he carried it over to the night table and placed it there before settling himself on his bed, his back against the wall and his legs folded in front of him.

  He was beginning to wonder how much longer Kezule would leave him kicking his heels here. Since he’d awakened in the sick bay and been transferred back to his cell a couple of days before, he’d only seen Ghidd’ah when she came once a day to change his dressing and see if he needed pain medication. His only other visitors were M’zynal and one other guard at meal-times. Ghidd’ah had been able to tell him little in the way of news about his crew, but she did keep him updated on how his son was coping.

  This had given him plenty of opportunity to think about his time on Kij’ik, and his relationship with Zayshul. Facing the reality that they did have a relationship had not been easy, nor had the knowledge that when he’d discovered he could turn off the marker, he hadn’t done so. However, he had modified it, so that it no longer made him ill if he was deprived of her company. Then there was his lack of honesty with Banner and his crew. He felt as if a veil had been lifted from his mind, letting him see clearly at last, and what he saw of himself was not comforting. There was also the issue of how he’d been able to heal so quickly, and the strange dreams that had haunted his subconscious during his sleep cure. Something else tugged at his mind, something connected with Shaidan and how his son had saved his life.

  Closing his eyes, he recited the Litany for Clear Thought. When he was done, for the first time since he’d left Shola so many months ago, and trying to remain objective, he purposely turned his thoughts to his family. He counted up the days, remembering the celebrations he’d missed sharing with them. First had been the birth of Kaid’s and Carrie’s infant, their Triad child, then Kashini’s first birthday, the midwinter festival, his own birthday, Carrie’s birthday—the list was long. Then he remembered another: it was two years ago to the day that he and Carrie
had Linked as Leskas.

  He bowed his head, blinking back the tears that sprang to his eyes, his objectivity utterly gone as he was overwhelmed by his emotions for her, and Kaid. On its heels came what he’d been trying to remember, the memory of the gestalt that Shaidan’s fear for him had triggered—a gestalt that had brought him back from the jaws of death, and bound his son to his Triad.

  The sound of voices outside made him look up and glance toward the transparent wall. Kezule was standing at the desk talking to M’zynal. Hurriedly wiping his hands across his face, he braced himself mentally for the confrontation he’d been expecting for days.

  M’zynal opened the door for Kezule, carrying in a chair which he placed by the bed before leaving them alone.

  Kezule sat down and looked at him. “I’m glad to see you’ve recovered so quickly.” Reaching into his pocket, the General pulled out a packet which he tossed over to him. “I thought you might like these. They were found behind seat cushions in the common area on the Venture.”

  Catching it automatically, he was surprised to find it was an unopened pack of stim twigs. As Kezule reached into his pocket for his smoking case and removed one of his brown cheroots and lit it, he took out a stim twig.

  “I’d like to see my son,” Kusac said, taking advantage of Kezule’s apparent friendliness as he put the twig in his mouth. As the slightly bitter taste flooded his mouth, the familiar brief surge of light-headedness hit him.

  “Your son is with Lieutenant Banner, as are his personal effects. He’ll be living with you from now on,” said Kezule.

  He blinked in surprise, searching for something to say. “How is M’kou?” he asked at length.

  “My son’s arm is fine. Your drug had the desired effect, though,” Kezule replied.

  Kusac didn’t miss the note of tension in his voice. “It was an accident. I didn’t intend to shoot him. I only wanted to leave here with my son and crew.”

  “I know,” said Kezule, interrupting him. “I saw it all on our security tape.” He looked away for a moment. “About the female I sent to your room ... I apologize. I had no right to do what I did,” he said, obviously acutely uncomfortable. He looked up, meeting Kusac’s gaze. “I only sent her in an effort to help us all, there was no other ulterior motive.”

  “You had no right to do it.” Anger over that still smoldered.

  “And you had no right to make illegal weapons,” Kezule countered. “There was wrong on both sides. Though your reaction was understandable, you left me no option but to punish you. I did what I could to minimize it.”

  “M’zynal told me,” he said shortly, sensing much in the way of regret over his own actions that the General could never say. “What did you do to my crew?”

  “Nothing. Your crew weren’t held accountable for what they did, only you were.”

  He nodded. As their Captain, it was only fair: he was responsible for their actions. “What happens now, Kezule?” he asked after a moment’s silence.

  “You’re free to leave Kij’ik with Shaidan. I was hoping that you might stay.”

  “Why would I want to do that?”

  “I ... need your help.” The words seemed to stick in Kezule’s throat. “K’hedduk survived our attack on his base and has staged a successful coup. He’s claimed the Throne of Light.”

  Kusac stared at him as he tried to make sense of this news and think through its ramifications.

  “I’m asking for your help to retake K’oish’ik, and prevent K’hedduk from rebuilding the Empire,” said Kezule, spelling it out when he said nothing. “K’hedduk is apparently the brother of the M’zullian Emperor.”

  “And if I refuse?” he asked at length when the General said nothing more.

  “As I said, you and your crew can leave now. All I ask is that you consider what it would mean to the Alliance if K’hedduk succeeds in reuniting the Empire. We both need to let the past between us be over, Kusac, and start fresh.”

  It will be over when I decide, not you, he thought, but kept it to himself. “Why me? If you contact Haven, they’d help you.”

  “I trust you,” said Kezule, taking a drag on his cheroot. “You kept your word over helping my people, despite ... everything. I need you to contact your authorities on my behalf, and I want you to lead your people alongside me and mine.”

  Wisps of half-remembered phrases began to form in his mind, accompanied by an overwhelming sense of dèjá vu. “You expect me to trust you?” he asked, hearing his voice as if from a great distance.

  “No,” said Kezule very quietly, meeting his gaze. “I wouldn’t, if I were you. I’m asking for a chance to earn that trust. For what it’s worth, I swear on my daughter’s life that it won’t be misplaced. I know why you were ill when we visited Ch’almuth, and that you fear you can’t leave Zayshul. We’ll get Giyarishis to work on finding some way to free you from the scent marker.”

  “What if he can’t?” he asked, trying to ignore an insistent memory of Dzaou’s mask at midwinter.

  “Then you and your family, all your family, will be welcome—and free—to live here, close to Zayshul, if that’s what you choose to do.”

  Frowning, he took the twig out of his mouth and put his other hand up to rub his forehead. That damned memory was plaguing him like a tune heard once on the vid channels that refused to be forgotten. What the hell had a mask of L’Shoh to do with this? He stiffened, letting his hands fall into his lap.

  You must make a pact with the Liege of Hell. The words, originally said to Kaid by Vartra, came into his mind as clearly as if the God Himself was standing beside him. Despite the fact Kezule wore a psi damper, he reached out mentally for the Valtegan’s mind. It took only a moment to bypass the device, and even less to penetrate, unnoticed, his natural shielding and read what was really in his mind.

  “Let me see what resources you have,” he said, holding his hand out for the reader he knew Kezule was carrying.

  Vartra sat on a prayer mat in the shadows near the altar, pleased that the message he’d placed with Kusac had been understood. As Ghyakulla had said, there was much he could do, especially if the Camarilla believed he was once again their mouthpiece. He could make sure that sooner rather than later, Kusac, the Hunter, became aware of their existence, and just how greatly they had meddled with and shaped his life. But first, K’hedduk and his brother must be stopped.

  “I’ll need to speak to my crew,” Kusac said, returning the reader.

  “Of course,” agreed Kezule. “Keep the reader. Show it to them. There’s footage from K’oish’ik showing K’hedduk proclaiming himself Emperor.”

  “I want my son deprogrammed immediately and our collars removed.” He indicated the metal band around his neck.

  The Valtegan shook his head. “Yours remains,” he said. “I know you have your mental abilities back, and I know, despite Zayshul claiming she did it, that you used them to kill the guard who shot you.”

  So much for his trust, he thought sardonically. “You’ll take my son’s off?” Shaidan’s was the one that really mattered since he’d already neutralized his.

  “It’s already been removed,” said Kezule. “And he’s been fully deprogrammed as another gesture of good faith.”

  “We’ll be free to go where we want on Kij’ik?”

  “Within reason, if your crew will swear not to attempt to sabotage the Outpost or our common mission.”

  “If they agree to stay, they’ll give their word,” said Kusac, beginning to push himself toward the edge of his bed. “Get M’zynal to call Banner and have him meet me in our common room. I need to talk to him first.”

  “What about Dzaou?” asked Kezule, getting up from his chair.

  “I’ll deal with him,” he replied.

  Banner got to his feet hurriedly as the door opened and Kusac limped in. Still gaunt from his rapid healing, there was an otherworldly look about him. It was enhanced as much by his braided hair as the very noticeable blue stud still in his ear.

 
; “Father!” exclaimed Shaidan, propelling himself off the sofa toward him.

  “Careful, your father’s still weak,” Banner cautioned as Kusac bent to meet his son’s rush and pick him up.

  “I’m fine,” he said, looking at Banner over the top of Shaidan’s head as he straightened up.

  He nodded, watching his Captain limp over to join him at the table. He had the uneasy feeling that despite the psi damping collar Kusac wore, the intense looks on their faces meant the two of them were carrying on a mental conversation.

  Kusac let Shaidan, his expression one of pure happiness now, climb down and scramble onto a chair adjacent to the one he took.

  “I need to talk to the Lieutenant about something important,” he said. “Have you something you can do for a few minutes?”

  Shaidan nodded. “I have a book I can read,” he said, getting down and going back to the reader he’d left on the sofa.

  “What now?” Banner asked, sitting down again.

  “We’re all free to leave,” he said, resting his forearms on the table, hands loosely clasped. “However ...”

  “Why am I not surprised there’s a However,” Banner interrupted, his instant elation squashed.

  “I thought I was the cynic. There’s been a coup on the Prime home world. K’hedduk is not only still alive, but he’s taken the Prime throne—the Throne of Light.”

  “That’s not our problem. Getting you and Shaidan home safe to Shola is.”

  “It is our problem. K’hedduk is the leader of the Directorate, and the brother of the M’zullian Emperor. For him to take the throne for himself, it’s obvious he has a following on his world. Unless he’s removed from power as soon as possible, we could see the old Empire reunited in a matter of weeks.”